Asylum Blues
by SwordStitcher
Summary: It's business as usual for Team Riddler. Robbery, riddles, breaking out and unfortunately - Batman.
1. Clash

A/N: A_ typical_ run in with Batman. Is there such a thing as typical with Batman? Or Riddler?

* * *

It was all very well and good telling her to stall him, it was basically what she was for. But she wasn't going to do that for very long.

Switch should have gone with Warren. Shark did not go out of his way to get Batman's attention, whereas Riddler did.

It wasn't that Batman went out of his way to pummel her, quite the opposite. In deference to her being a woman, he went a little easier. That didn't mean getting canned by Batman made her feel any better.

Being handcuffed to a pipe for the cops to find was hardly ideal.

This was their tenth encounter of the year and she was getting awfully sick of having to break out of Arkham.

She could hear Riddler shouting. Crashes of furniture.

Any rightfully sane man would have booked it after he told her to stall, but Nigma wasn't sane was he? He was a high-class inmate of Arkham. On the committee for crazy-town.

He'd actually told her to stall so he could perfect his latest death trap.

By the noises escaping into the corridor, he was losing. _Again._

Oh well, Arkham it was. It wasn't the most ideal arrangement for this time of year; she wasn't going to get out until well after Easter which sucked. She was going to miss out on all that cheap chocolate.

They always misdiagnosed her, too. What was it going to be this time? Avoidant Personality Disorder? Depersonalization Disorder? Intermittent Explosive Disorder?

She hated the pills they fed her. Everything got muffled and stuffy and she became a walking zombie. It was hard to think when you were like that.

Not that detox was any fun either.

She could certainly do with some time to recover though. She was pretty sure when Batman slammed her into the pipes he inadvertently broke a rib.

Oh look, the cops were here with an escort of Arkham doctors.

'Hello Miss Swain. My name is Strange. Hugo Strange.'

…Lovely.


	2. In Custody

A/N: Switch likes the fact Cops are veritable cowards. It makes hostage taking that much easier, they won't shoot your hostage. As opposed to some Mob bosses whom shall remain nameless...

* * *

The atmosphere in the van was tense and hostile. The two occupants, who had been left to stew, sat back to back.

Switch had the back of her had rested on Nigma's shoulder as she tried to stop the blood pouring from her nose, Nigma, for his sins, had road rash down one side of his face from Batman's fast descent and plenty of bruises from the pummelling that followed.

It had not been a good day.

'If you had been watching the monitors-' Nigma seethed.

'Oh? Oh I'm sorry Edward, who was bragging to the hostages and failed to see him on the roof?' Switch demanded.

'If I had my cane, I'd beat you with it!' He snarled.

'If they didn't tie my hands behind my back, I'd strangle you!' She screamed back.

The shouting had attracted attention. A uniformed cop opened the door, by the five o'clock shadow and the bags under his eyes it had been a long night.

'Will you two shut up?' He snarled.

'Get lost you feckless caveman!' Nigma seethed. 'We're in the middle of something.'

The cop pulled the nightstick from his belt and extended it to it's full capacity. 'Right, that's it you freak.'

Nigma's leg swung out and sliced under him, the sudden action caught him unawares and he tumbled to the floor. It took Switch a few seconds to pull the key from his pocket and open her handcuffs. The cop had already began to draw attention to what was happening but by the time help arrived, Switch had unlocked Nigma's cuffs and they'd taken him hostage with his own gun.

Honestly, this was all too easy once Batman left. They were going to be home free inside of three hours.


	3. Lesson One

A/N: _scribblescribblescribble:_ Thanks for the story fav! Yes, they're fond of each other in a working relationship way, though it's covered with a thick layer of disdain. Switch would certainly be adversely affected in the emotions department if something happened to Nigma, although I can't say that would be reciprocated...

_Batty: _It's _hilarious _how easy it is to break out. I may play with it some more later. Gotta love breaking out of custody.

Riddler should never go into teaching full time. He's terrible at it. _Terrible._ It's a good job Switch picks things up fast and she does her homework like a good little lackey. I apologize if this is a rubbish update but I had to poke a little fun at how impatient Riddler is and how much his teaching sucks.

* * *

When Switch made a deal to work for Riddler in exchange for learning a trick or two, she'd really not thought too much on the how.

Honestly, what had she expected when she'd made that deal? She didn't know but maybe it had been a very patient man teaching her bit by bit. In reality, she was utterly wrong.

Riddler taught by example and he was absolutely impatient sometimes. He didn't see the point in coaching someone through his methods because that would make them a vastly inferior intellect and thus they were a waste of his time to teach.

Switch learnt by observation and experimentation. Take lock picking. She had only the vaguest hints of how a lock worked. For reasons to do with practicality, Nigma preferred to make his own picks and he could make them out of just about anything.

It really wasn't what the picks looked like, though it helped to have the general shape it didn't need to be perfect. More important was how he moved his hands and manipulated the tumblers.

He'd demonstrated it to her a few times and then on the job, he'd told her to crack the bolts.

Of course she'd gotten an insult when she failed to do it and was then given the worst jobs as the most useless tag-along.

That was just Nigma being an ass but it knocked her back and Switch didn't like the feeling at all.

So she began to practice in her free time, and she certainly had a lot of that while she waited for him to come up with new schemes.

Within a few months, she had improved considerably and got a chance to redeem herself a little when she was told to pick the lock at the next job and cracked it in an acceptable time.

She was still insulted, much to her annoyance, but she learned an important lesson. Practice makes perfect.

Considering Riddler's attitude, he had been patient in his own way and she never forgot her first lesson. Practice makes perfect and Riddler demanded nothing short of perfect.


	4. Super-friends

A/N: To make up for such a boring post, here's an extra! Superman getting all kinds of super kicked out of him! (I feel totally guilty. Enjoy.)

* * *

'What _are_ you watching?' Riddler muttered as Switch giggled to herself and made annoying sounds of derision or cheering.

'Lex Luthor and Superman are at it again.' Switch laughed.

Riddler's chair slid over to the tiny portable television. The images were grainy and came from a television chopper watching the two figures that danced around the rooftop.

They were going at it, he had to admit. Lex had made himself some kind of green exoskeleton.

For a bald, narrow-minded prig, he did make some truly awe inspiring weapons. 'Who's winning?'

'Lex is in the lead. Supes can't touch him.' Switch pointed out the arm guards and paint job. 'That's all Kryptonite. Must have cost a fortune.'

'Luthor has a vast amount of that.' Riddler muttered. Something was nagging him, something important, but he became distracted by Switch's howl of indignation.

Supes had just launched himself at Luthor and tore the arm guards from his wrist. He was now crawling along the floor in agony at having touched it.

Luthor kicked him, not once, not twice, but three times and rolled the suffering caped crusader towards the edge of the roof.

'Toss him. Toss him!' Switch cheered.

Just as Lex was winding up for the final punt off the edge, smoke detonated around them.

'_Now, I'm not sure what's happening folks, it appears someone else is getting involved! Yes! Look!'_ The camera zoomed onto a dark figure that was swooping in and kicked Luthor over._ 'It's The Batman!' _The news anchor cheered.

'_**What?!'**_

They weren't sure which one of them said it first.

Luthor was turtled on the ground of the roof as Batman helped the beaten and bleeding Superman off the floor. He then turned his attention to Luthor and it looked like he was using a baterang to smash him out of his suit.

Within minutes, Batsy had handed over a beaten Lex Luthor to Superman who cuffed him to a pipe. The two men embraced warmly before the Bat swooped off.

'Man doesn't have his own problems closer to home?' Switch asked as the news-caster recapped what had just happened.

'He hasn't been solving my riddles?' Riddler fumed. 'Well that's just infuriating!'


	5. Babysitter

A/N:_ Readingstuff4fun,_ welcome to the madhouse!

This is part one of a two-parter. It's short. Very short. Hmm. Switch thinks babysitting is boring, she'd also hate to be in Riddler's bad side.

* * *

'Mmmph!' The rope creaked with strain and the legs of the chair danced.

She ignored the struggle, instead sat and read her magazine.

'Rrrgh!'

Her eyes flicked over to the table. He sat, trussed up and gagged, like Riddler had left him, but he was struggling to get free.

'There's no point.' She sang and returned to the print.

Of course he wasn't going to listen. They never did. He was still going to struggle with the rope. His grunts and roars as he attempted to loosen his bonds made it entirely impossible to concentrate.

With a sigh she picked up her pistol and moved over to his chair. 'Hey! Cut it out!' She whipped him one across the face with the barrel of her gun and he sagged. The tears came not long after that. He was moaning something that sounded like 'Why?'

Switch perched herself on the edge of the table. Sympathy wasn't something she encountered often in this job. Nigma had a knack for finding people to terrorize who deserved this sort of thing but this guy just looked so pathetic.

'Don't look at me.' She sighed. 'I don't know what you did.'

Besides, when Nigma told her to take good care of their _guest_, she'd seen his shopping list. He was taking this personally judging by the items he wanted.

'But he is exceptionally mad.' She mused.

Just as he began to settle down again, Switch heard the door open. 'How is our _guest_, Switch?'

'Scared out of his wits.' She answered.

Nigma took some delight in placing the bags on the table and unloading them in front of his victim. The man began whimpering and crying again as he pulled out pliers, acid, jumper cables and more.

The chair began to rock harder as he fought to get away from the torture devices.

'Hold still, now.' The shrieking began not long after.


	6. Clean up

A/N: Part two! I promised myself I wasn't going to upload this at least until tomorrow, I _promised_. I suck at promises.

First off, look! Psychotic Riddler is back! I just love psychotic Riddler. Second, Switch puked her heart out after she finished clearing up. But she held onto her cookies like a champ during the actual torture and finally, since I have no idea what the mayors name was and nothing in Arkham Asylum told me (and I looked everywhere) I've given him the title of Frostburn.

* * *

The mop swooshed through the slick floor and Switch had to wince as the water ran pink.

What a mess. Mannie and Zowie were out on corpse duty, Nigma had gone to shower out the splatter and that left Switch to clean up the mess the recent corpse had left.

She was going to have to try very hard to forget the effects of some things but she was never ever going to have trouble remembering others no matter how hard she tried to dislodge them; like the acid needle.

Nigma was normally a very laid back man. He wasn't one to do the torture himself; he had people for that sort of thing but something had him riled which was probably why he tortured the poor sod himself.

She could say without a doubt that Riddler was just as dangerous as his reputation alluded.

Throughout the screaming and the torture he was laughing and asking riddles and every one the unfortunate man got wrong, the torture increased.

Even she was sick of the wailing come the end. It was almost a relief when he finally got a riddle right and was rewarded with a swift stab to the throat.

So now, here she was, cleaning up the mess. The guy had really sprayed his blood around.

She turned when she heard footsteps. He came in adjusting his tie, his hair still a little damp.

'So, what did that guy do?' Switch muttered as she swept the mop through the bleach-filled solution on the floor.

'Hmm?'

'To deserve your personal attention.' She clarified.

Nigma smirked. 'He was simply a means to an end. One of my clients seemed to be under the impression it was perfectly alright to double-cross me. No-one cheats me.'

That was a lesson learned.

Riddler sank into his beloved chair and turned on the Tv. Vicky Vale was at city hall, reporting live as firemen behind her tried to cut down the corpse draped over the building.

'- was found like this shortly before midnight. It is believed Mr. Davreux who worked for Mayor Frostburn as his personal secretary, was involved in some capacity with criminals, but never proven.'

Nigma grinned obscenely as the camera focused on the still dripping question mark which adorned his chest and in the process Switch saw the victims face clearly. It was their little guest from earlier.

'A fact strengthened by a packet of suspicious papers found on the body which linked the recently deceased to several prominent mob figures. The mayor is unavailable for comment at this time but we were told that a statement would soon be issued.'

'This is Vicky Vale reporting-'

Riddler's phone rang as he turned the Tv off.

'Mayor Frostburn. Glad you could call.'

She heard the speaker of the phone violently buzz. Nigma's voice suddenly lost all sense of joviality.

'No. You listen to me. I don't like being cheated. We had a deal. The next time you try to back out, I'll do the same to you.'

The phone buzzed, a little less angrily. Nigma laughed darkly.

'I can find anyone Mr Mayor. Finding you would be childs play.'

The speaker now lost all sense of fight and Nigma returned to jovial. 'So glad we could do business.'

He ended the call and tossed the phone onto the bank of keyboards. 'Moron.' He muttered.

Switch went back to cleaning up the late Mr. Davreaux and vowed to never ever get on Riddler's bad side.


	7. Helping hand

A/N: What? You thought it was going to be all jokes and arguments? Jester is Bat-Teen's character. Switch sucks at first aid. Really sucks. If she were the only uninjured person in a life or death situation, take the easy way out. You were warned.

* * *

Sometimes, you helped simply because the person in need may be you one day. Sometimes, you helped because you were in the same boat. Sometimes, you helped because not helping wasn't cruel, it was _evil_.

Switch wrapped the bandage around Jester's arm. The girl looked a mess. An absolute mess. She refused to tell her how she'd gotten half her injuries or even when; some seemed older than the others.

The girl was quiet, and that troubled Switch to no end. Every time Jester dropped by she was happy, bubbly, always cracking a joke. She'd never seen her so…Sombre.

Of course she'd tried to get her to talk, but it became obvious she was only going to talk to Nigma. Switch was…Okay with that. She wasn't going to force her to talk.

Those two had been through something together. Something that made the normally untrusting girl turn to him above all else.

Switch was talking, if only to try and fill the void Jester's voice left in it's absence.

'He's not here right now, he's meeting a client. Enigma's shopping. She'll be back soon. She better be, anyway.'

Switch ripped off a chunk of tape and smoothed it over the bandages. She wasn't good at first aid, she knew that much. Nigma would probably want to rewrap her wounds when he got back from his meeting but it was better than letting her bleed onto the floor.

Switch's eyes found Jester, watching her. Her split lips parted and Switch heard the first words Jester had spoken to her all night. 'Thank you.'

She felt uncomfortable at the intensity of pain she could see in her eyes. 'How about a cuppa, eh? Everything feels better after a cup of tea.'

She stood up to rinse her bloody hands and put the kettle on. When she came back, Jester was lying across the ratty couch, seemingly asleep. Two fingers gently felt for a pulse on her neck, just to reassure herself Jester was actually sleeping. Satisfied she pulled back.

Oh well. Cuppa for one, Switch needed to steady her nerves. She pulled out her phone as the kettle clicked off and typed a quick text.

_Jester here. Injured pretty bad. Wants you, only you. Sleeping, no rush._

She came back into the room with her cup of tea and sat in Nigma's chair, just watching her.

Who would hurt Jester? She was friends with everyone. She was _harmless_. Switch's fingers dug into the cup. She didn't deserve whatever kind of beating she got and if Switch found out who had done it, they'd be choking on their own blood by next week. Switch took poorly to people hurting her friends; but that was probably why Jester only wanted to talk to Nigma. More than likely a rogue had done this and Switch would blow the whole thing out of control.

Her mobile trilled sharply and she fumbled with it to avoid waking the sleeping girl.

_Understood. _Curt. His meeting mustn't have gone so well.

As hard as it was for her to accept, Switch was just going to have to sit on the sidelines and patch the wounded.

Maybe one day, Jester would open up but it wasn't today.


	8. Donuts

A/N: This is_ totally_ Batty's fault. I was going to do this tomorrow but then she just had to put Switch in TWO chapters and then I kinda felt bad. It's a good job i've got like 20 stories to go.

Switch likes donuts. Far more than is strictly necessary. Batman's a _meanie_.

* * *

The city was in chaos, something Joker was doing. Switch didn't pay too much attention to his plans and made it her utmost mission to stay as far from him as can be. As far away as can be was Dunkin Donuts.

Switch loved donuts. A little too much if she were honest. She'd actually paid for these. _Paid_. She'd been one of the last customers before they'd shut up shop too. Joker again.

The streets were deserted. The people of Gotham could smell trouble and only the criminals were out on this night.

She didn't see the figure that was following her from the rooftops, she was too happy sneaking a donut from the batch.

She choked on the pastry as he struck and forced her up against the wall. The box of donuts in her hands fell to the floor and burst open, scattering iced, sugared and frosted donuts everywhere, much to her anger.

'Dead Switch.' Batman intoned.

'My goddamn donuts, Batman!' She hissed as he stood almost nose to nose.

'I need information. You work for Riddler.'

Typical. He could only manage ape-like grunting.

'They were jam filled.' She moaned.

He pulled her forward and planted her back into the wall. 'Focus, Dead Switch. What is Joker up to?'

'The clown?!' Switch's attention turned away from sweet, sticky delight and focused on the far less appealing form of Batman. 'I stay away from whatever he's doing. I don't have a death wish.'

'Your boss knows everything the other rogues are up to. I want to know about Joker's plans.'

How had he managed to capture Riddler's attention so well? He'd become obsessed with a man who talked like a broken record of grunts and threats. 'Which one?' She smirked. He shook her harder for her mocking attitude. 'Alright!' She wailed. 'You're giving me motion sickness!'

How bad would it be to tell him Joker's plans? The clown broadcast them all over the damn city in any case. It wasn't delicate knowledge and there was a good chance he'd leave her alone if she told him, as opposed to following her home and making a mess of their newest hideout.

Riddler would kill her if Batman showed up.

'What about Joker?' She sighed at last.

'Where is he?' Batman snarled.

Switch consulted her watch. While she had the vaguest hints of why Joker was screwing up the city, she did know his schedule, mainly to avoid running into him. It was now nine.

'Probably rigging up some kind of bomb at the swimming pool.' She muttered.

Batman dropped her, much to her relief.

'I hope, for your sake, you're right.' He warned her.

Again with the threats. He really was a broken record. 'I'm not a walking calendar of criminal activity.' Switch snapped.

The ranting did no good; he was gone in a matter of seconds.

She looked down at her spilled box of goodies; the rats had come out en mass to devour the dirty treats and were now tearing the pastry to shreds.

Goddamn Batman.

Switch felt just a little validated in the knowledge that when Batman finally did get to the swimming pool, the bomb Joker had rigged an hour ago was probably going to go off as he entered.

Serves him right.


	9. Imposter

A/N: You've got to be a special kind of stupid to do this folks. A very special kind. You don't want to know what they did to Mr. Andrews either.

* * *

The Iceberg was a good place to hang out and scope out the nightlife. It was a magnet for women who, against all common sense, attended in the hopes of seeing a rogue or two, maybe even bedding them. Some even formed their own fanclubs. Women. They were crazy.

For a man like Garth Andrews though, that fact was practically his bread and butter.

As he glanced around the room he spotted the perfect target at the bar. She was drinking alone and while she hadn't dressed up to come here, she was wearing a bright green scarf with little question marks around her neck.

It was a damn good bet she'd never even seen The Riddler.

'Hi.' He leaned on the bar next to her and grinned. She turned to look at him and frowned. Unusually, she didn't say hello back, she turned back to her drink instead.

'You're a fan, eh?' He tried a new tactic.

'Excuse me?' That made her talk, if only to clarify.

He reached out and plucked at her scarf. 'You're one of my fans. You're wearing a Riddler scarf. I'm the Riddler.'

'_You're_ the Riddler?' The remark held just the right hint of amusement. 'Where's your suit? Where are all your rogue buddies?'

'I'm incognito.' He winked with a grin. 'And they bore me.'

Her phone magically appeared in her hands and she began typing. 'What are you doing?' He asked.

'Oh, I'm just telling a few friends I met the Riddler.' She smirked. 'They're never going to believe me.'

It was working. She believed he was the rogue. Not that the man himself ever came to the Iceberg, he felt himself too high and mighty. Garth felt himself safe in passing himself off as Nigma.

Her phone beeped and she answered almost immediately. A grin blossomed on her face.

Garth tried to see what the reply was, but she kept the screen averted. 'I know it's unusual Mr Riddler, but my friends really don't believe I've met you. Can I get a…'

She wanted a picture? Well, he was normally very careful about that sort of thing but telling her no might put her off, and he really did want her to take him home…

'Sure. You can take a picture.'

She giggled and took the picture as he struck a pose. He heard a ping as it sent.

Less than a minute later, she received a text that seemed to meet with her approval.

Well, now he had her eating out of his hand, it was time to make the killer move. 'Why don't we get out of here and…Try a few riddles?'

'Oh yes. Definitely.' She grabbed her purse and drained her drink. It was all too easy. He could practically see himself sneaking out of her apartment at the end of the night.

As they stepped into the cold Gotham air she dragged him down the street and into an alley. He was loathe to use the alleys, but if it was a shortcut to her place, he could put up with the stench for the sake of nookie.

They met a party of people who were coming the other way. The closest figure was tall and thin and seemed to be leaning on a cane. He was flanked by two, shorter, stockier figures that Garth immediately identified as hired help. Thugs.

'Ah. Mr. Andrews.' The figure was half hidden in the shadows, but he radiated an ease that made Garth wary. The only people in Gotham that at ease after dark were criminals, this man was dangerous.

'That's not my name.' He mumbled at last with a look to his companion.

'No? My, my Mister Andrews, what else could it be? Could it be…_Riddler_?'

Garth flinched. The voice was lilting and cold. A terrifying certainty was settling in the pit of his stomach.

'He did use the moniker, Switch?'

Switch? Who was Switch?

'Oh yeah.' His date answered.

Oh no. Oh god no.

He stumbled away from her.

That bitch wasn't wearing the scarf because she was part of his fanclub. _He employed her. _

Seconds later, his scream was cut short.

Switch and Nigma walked out of the alley and meandered their way back to the Iceberg as Mannie and Zowie disposed of Mr. Andrews.

'How's the poker going?' She asked after a while.

Nigma snorted. 'With Oswald's cheating? Boring. I was glad of the distraction.'

Switch smiled to herself as they re-entered the lobby. People never learned; Nigma took highly unkindly to imposters and took special delight in killing them. Even in the middle of his one social outing of the month.

Oh well. Mister Andrews would serve as a reminder.


	10. Winning but losing

A/N: Wow, I've never had so many reviews in one day. I kinda feel loved!

_Readingstuff4fun_: I giggled throughout writing it. Glad you liked it!

_ScaryScarecrows_: He's a total jerk. They were jam filled. She used _actual money_. But Switch got the last laugh. All she has to do is stay out of his way for a while...

_Batty_: I don't think the casanovas of Gotham will use him for inspiration for a while after that.

_Scribblescribblescribble_: I'm ashamed to say my boyfriend had to point the blatant cheating out to me but I had a good laugh about it and felt I had to do something with it. At least they had the decency to kill him away from the Iceberg, right?

So I was listening to a pretty badass soundtrack from Doctor Who and occasionally watching Terminator Salvation scenes and...This. It happened. I'm only posting it because of the action. Even when Riddler wins, he loses. Batman will pay for those computers. *shakes fist*

* * *

'How does he keep coming? HOW?!' Nigma raged at the screens as Batman advanced on them. No matter what was put in front of him, he kept moving closer to the hideout and now he was too close. Dangerously close. As much as Riddler wanted to humiliate him before he killed him, he needed to be dealt with, now.

'Found it!' Switch rushed into the room and used the metal tube she'd dragged in to smash out the window.

She loaded a rocket and hitched it onto her shoulder. 'Where is he, where is he…'

'I want him dead! DEAD _NOW_!' Nigma was throwing a tantrum.

Oh Batman was going to be dead alright. She'd been saving this damn rocket launcher for someone special, but Batman would do.

She finally caught him, running along a roof towards the warehouse. She smirked as it locked on. 'Bye Batsy.'

The force propelled her backwards but she rolled with the recoil and snatched up another rocket as the first landed.

It blew a large chunk of masonry from the building and sent dust spewing into the air but the Bat burst from the cloud and kept running.

'Goddamn rodent!' Switch seethed and shoved the second rocket into the launcher. It didn't take her long to find him again and release another. This one touched upon a gas tank on the roof and blew it to shreds. Batman disappeared in the flurry of smoke and flames.

'Where is he? Where _is_ he?' Switch couldn't spot him through the sights with the smoke and flame, she was forced to pull away and look manually.

Nigma was scanning the webcams for any sign, but he'd just _vanished_.

A baterang flew through the window, barely missing Switch and swung into the bank of technology. It buried itself into the electronics as things began to fizzle and spark. The screens filled with snow as the computers died. That was the last straw for Nigma.

'No! NO! _**BATMAN**_!'

Seconds after that fact had registered, Switch was kicked into the opposite wall as Batman flew through the window but Nigma was prepared. He dodged the fist that came his way and brought his cane up to ward off the baterang that was thrown on instinct.

Switch abandoned her rocket launcher and grabbed a pipe. She swung hard, but Batman turned and grabbed the tool at the last second and ripped it from her hands with ease. For a moment he eyed her before he heard Nigma shift and brought up the pipe to ward off the vicious attack by cane.

He intercepted her frail punch and bent her wrist back painfully. She yelped as the bones ground together, but his momentary distraction was his own downfall. Switch's boot shot out and caught him on the back of the knee, Batman's leg buckled and his knee hit the floor. Nigma used it and clubbed him one over the head.

'My _goddamn_ computers!' Nigma seethed and hit him again. Batman grunted.

He wasn't going to take this punishment for long. Switch gathered up what little valuables she could get her hands on as Nigma took his frustrations out on Batman. The computers and whatever was on them were fried. There was going to be no recovery of that data.

'Did you really think you could stop me, Batman? _Me?_' Riddler snarled. 'You're not clever enough to catch me. But I _won't_ forget the computers.'

With that, they ran from the room and charged down the stairs as Batman shrugged the stars from his eyes.

Their escape was as good as done. Batman was never going to see which way they went-

Switch and Nigma burst out into the dirty parking lot but skidded to a stop. Cop cars _Vwworped_ and orders to lie on the ground came from all around them. The police were out in force and every one had a gun.

'Fuck!' Switch slammed the bag into the dirt in disgust. She turned, looking for orders, Nigma had his hands raised. To say he was unhappy was an understatement. He looked like he was going to spew acid.

With a sigh, she followed his lead and dropped to her knees.

Batman exited the building not long after the cuffs were slipped on and they had been transferred to a waiting car. Switch thought he looked entirely too smug for a man with blood pouring from his nose.

'There's always next time.' Nigma muttered darkly.

Switch closed her eyes and leaned back against the material of the car as the driver was given instructions to take them to Arkham.

Yes. There was.


	11. Lesson Two

A/N: I felt like torturing someone. I don't know who's being tortured the most. Mister Harper there, or Nigma for being shot. Switch isn't going to ask what kind of word Harper failed to keep but she correlates it with the fact Nigma's been shot and is now out for blood.

* * *

Switch approved of their latest hideout. An old seminary church on the edge of the city. It was full of stained glass and carved wood. Switch may have been an insane criminal to the eyes of the law, and an atheist to boot but she could still appreciate good art.

Dead winter in Gotham is ice mainly, but they got their fair share of snow too. Flurries of it had built up against the walls and door. It's freezing in here, but then the main church has never seen a need for heating.

It's beautiful too. The ice sparkled by the light of the solitary lamp they'd rigged up. It danced along the faces of saints and sinners, along the faded reds and blues. In her current state of mind it was ironic.

'Please, please! Don't hurt me!'

Her concentration shattered and she turned back to the task at hand. It can't be all beautiful art and crisp ice.

It has to be blood and tears occasionally too.

Their current guest was an unfortunate ex-informant. He was tied to a chair which had been bolted to the floor.

Lesson two was about to begin: Mercy is for the deserving and some did not deserve.

She loaded the needle, like she'd seen Nigma do a dozen times and flicked it to remove all the bubbles. There was no sense in letting their guest check out early now.

He was sobbing, apologising over and over again, but no-one was going to hear him.

'I don't care for your apologies.' The cold voice snapped from behind her.

Right now, it was best to get on with her job. No questions, no defiance. Switch approached the gulping wreck and eyed up a good vein. The syringe slid in effortlessly and she pushed it's contents into his bloodstream.

It took a few seconds to build but she expected the blood curdling shrieks that followed.

'Riddle me this Mister Harper. _You must keep it after you give it. What is it?_' The cold voice taunted him.

The man was screaming as blood blisters began to pool under his skin. The acid was eating through the muscle, capillaries and bone, setting his nerves on fire. It was agony.

He was constantly screaming he was sorry. The cold voice appeared to consider this second rate.

'Answer my riddle Mister Harper.'

'I don't…I don't…'

The voice sighed. 'Switch?'

'It's "Your word", Riddler.' She answered flatly as she watched the flurry of emotions Harper went through.

'Correct. Your word Mister Harper, the one you _failed_ _to keep._'

Switch was already loading up the next needle when he said it. 'In the other arm this time.'

'NO! Please!' Harper sobbed. 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry!'

The first injection had finally broken down the skin and a slurry of blood, muscle and acid dripped down his arm. It hissed to itself as it fell to the snow.

Switch found a likely vein as the cold figure stepped into the light provided by the solitary lamp. He was leaning heavily on his cane and he appeared to be in pain. One of his legs moved stiffly and the cloth around the knee was damp with blood despite the bandages.

'If you had kept your word Mister Harper, I would not have been shot.' Riddler hissed as the acid began to eat through his other arm.

Switch laid down the needle. It was now useless in any case; the acid was eating through the tip. She reached past it and picked up a scalpel. The blade felt reassuring in her fingers.

This was only round one, softening him up. The torture was going to continue all night at least, if Nigma got his dearest wish.

Lesson two was easy. Mercy was for those who deserved it and those who failed to follow through on their promises did not deserve to die quickly.


	12. Big brothers

A/N: I'm implementing a new game. It's called 'Ask a minion' and look at that- Here's the minion!

_Switch: You kidnapped me! You hear that Nigma? Your crazy fangirls kidnapped me!_

_Oh shush. _

_Switch: You don't know what it's like! He may be big brother R to Jester but he's Satan to me!_

_Of course he is pumpkin. _

_Switch: I __**will**__ shoot you._

_Tied to a chair? You can't even flip me off. Get comfy, we could be here a while. _

_Anyway: Ask a minion every Saturday. Special. Ask Switch something._

* * *

Mannie and Zowie were a lot like over-protective big brothers. Anyone hoping to score with Switch had to go through them. Any hopeful who persisted past 'No.' would instantly regret their drunken decision.

'C'mon baby, you and me.'

He just wasn't getting the hint. Not even after Mannie cracked his knuckles to warn him. If he wasn't a serious creep she would have awarded him a medal for persistence.

Instead she just sighed and that was when the drunk made the worst mistake of his night. He took hold of her shoulder and forced her to turn around and look at him.

He was instantly treated to a bear hug from Zowie and was escorted out into an alley, much to his violent indignation. But lashing out wasn't going to help him. Zowie was a big lad and a few weeny kicks from someone far less muscular and far more drunk than he was hardly seemed to bother him.

Mannie turned to her, the unsaid question of her safety on his lips and she flapped a hand, indicating she would be fine for however long it took them to beat some manners into him.

Most of the bar heard his screaming as Mannie walked out to give Zowie a hand.

This was a Narrows bar. Not many women felt safe drinking alone, but after that little incident, Switch had no doubt in her mind that she was going to be left alone by the men of this pub for quite a while.

Even after being pestered, Switch felt in a good mood. For once Batman hadn't shown up to ruin a plan and it had gone perfectly. They'd gotten a big chunk of change and while Switch was careful enough to put most of her share into an offshore bank account, she was mindful to keep some back for this kind of thing.

She held up her glass at the bartender. 'Another round?' He asked.

'Oh yeah.'

You've got to love over-protective big brothers.


	13. Skype

A/N: I've been quiet for three days, not like me. Have some love.

If you're wondering what Mannie and Zowie did...They _might_ have filled the computers with viruses that Nigma spent forever trying to get rid of. Prison's really the best place for them - He can't throttle them while they're there.

Switch is still here for Ask a minion, that _will_ happen this Saturday. We're still taking questions to torture- I mean ask her.

* * *

Edward Nigma had a vast criminal career behind him and hopefully a vast one in front of him too. Over the years and over many hundreds of schemes, he'd learned quite a few rules to surviving in Gotham.

Today was definitely a day to implement rule #44.

Send a lackey.

That particular rule had come into effect after a near miss with Batman. Batman was a lot like a terrier. Once he'd caught your scent, he wasn't going to stop chasing you.

Riddler hated dogs and he hated Batman.

So after a near miss with Batman earlier, it was imperative he lay low and put several layers of people between him and what he needed doing. But even that wasn't simple.

He realised that one when they were out hacking a terminal at a server farm so he could remotely access the data.

The little bubble flashed annoyingly 'Video Call waiting!'

Perhaps he should have just ignored it, but the merry flashing icon was only going to give him a headache if he kept seeing it from the corner of his eye. With a sigh he accepted it.

'Dead Switch.' He muttered. 'What's wrong?'

'When are we getting Mannie and Zowie back?' She whined into the webcam.

_When they've learned their lesson_. He thought to himself. 'What's wrong with the help I sent you?' He snapped.

'I've already had to shoot three of them!' She bit back.

That confused him. 'Why?' He demanded.

'I caught two of them pilfering and one of them wouldn't take orders.' She replied. 'The other two are so green…'

She stopped and turned around when she heard the banging and crashing from outside the room. 'Oh not now.' She grumbled.

'What?' He asked, rather afraid of the answer.

'Batman.' She sighed.

On cue he burst through the door and stalked towards her.

A finger was waved in the air as she fought for some control of the situation. 'Now listen here-!' Batman swatted away the waggling finger and grabbed her jacket.

'Where's Riddler?'

'I don't know.' She replied. At least she had a brain, albeit a rather underused one. She avoided looking at the camera when he asked and kept her eyes firmly on him.

'Why are you here?'

'Why do you think I'm here?' She retorted. He shook her firmly and planted her into a wall.

Riddler sighed and disconnected the feed. He'd heard it all before. Lived it all before. Switch could get herself out of Arkham, it wasn't difficult. If Joker could break out, then Switch certainly could.

He kneaded his forehead wearily. A headache was forming and he wished he hadn't answered the call at all.

Batman the terrier. He was going to have to put several more layers between him and his objectives.

Maybe he shouldn't have left Mannie and Zowie to stew.


	14. Poker

A/N: RIddler doesn't take a day off, Switch expects _far_ too much if she thinks she can avoid him and have a day off anyway.

* * *

It had been a test of her skill to get this far, she had never been one to throw money around, but it was necessary.

The more money she threw around, the more intimidated they became. One by one, they surrendered until only one was left to stand.

Was she bluffing? Was she serious? Did she have something that could possibly claim victory?

As expected, the psychological warfare soon began.

'You can't win.'

'Watch me.' She grinned.

Was she that confident?

How could she still have that serene smile on her face? Was it a bluff? Or a tell?

'You going to make your move there, Switchy?'

Damn Jester. She was trying to goad her into making a rash decision. Switch had a strong hand, either she called her bluff and ran into something stronger or she folded and just handed over the money. She was entirely loathe to just _give _her the win.

'I'll call.'

Coin hit the table as Switch dumped a hefty portion of her funds into the pot.

Both people locked gazes.

Suddenly, this wasn't about poker, it was a battle of wills that Switch was determined to be the victor of.

'I'll show you mine if you show me yours?' Jester offered with a grin. Someone at the table snickered but someone with more presence of mind clapped a hand over his mouth.

Jesters cards flipped over and they both looked down, matching them to the cards already on show.

Three of a kind. Jacks.

Switch half expected her to go for the pot there and then, but she waited patiently for her to turn over her own cards.

A four and seven of clubs in her hand, a three of diamonds, the five of hearts and six of spades already on the table.

That pot was hers.

Three of a kind will always lose against a straight.

Switch's hands reached out for the pile of money when someone grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and hauled her out of her chair.

She looked up into the mildly annoyed, sharply defined features of Edward Nigma.

'Hey, Eddie.' Jester greeted.

'Hello Jester.' He looked down at Switch. 'We've got work to do.'

'It's my day off!' She wailed.

'I wouldn't have had to come down here and drag you away if you'd kept your phone on.' Nigma replied as he dragged her from the room.

She'd kept her phone off because she knew he would call and she really wanted just a day off. There was never a day off for Riddler and thus never a day off for Switch.

She struggled mainly for one reason. 'My money!'

'I'll keep it safe for you Switchy!' Jester giggled.

'I swear to god Neon you touch my money…!' Nigma dragged her out of the door as the players began laughing.

One damn day off, just one! She was never going to see that money again.


	15. Ask a minion 1

A/N: And it's round one of Ask a minion! Switch is reluctant to play, well, we're going to fix that. Thanks to Bat-teen and readingstuff4fun for the questions, I swear she isn't going to track you down later. Maybe...

* * *

Look! Look! We've got questions! Answer them.

_No. _

This whole thing is about you answering fans questions. They took the time to ask, you can answer. Or else.

_Or else? Ooh I'm scared. _

Now where did I put that Riddler and Batman smut I saw last week-

_You're not serious? Right? People actually write- OH GOD MY EYES- Alright! Not that! Put it away! You people are sick!_

Are you going to answer them now?

_Yes! For the love of god __**burn**__ that, right now!_

**Bat-Teen: Does she really like Riddler? As in friends? Or does she not like him at all?**

_If I weren't working for him? I'd probably like him. I trust him, which is a terrible decision now that I think about it-_

_Yeah you could say we can be counted as…Friends. It can be difficult at times; he has a huge ego after all and a penchant for making you feel insignificant but you get past that base hatred and you avoid being stupid for weeks at a time- you're golden. _

**Readingstuff4fun: Why are you called Dead Switch?**

_*sigh* The short version: Joker._

_The long version: Do you know what a dead mans switch is? It's a mechanism that activates after a certain length of time without human interaction. That's what my name comes from. One of Joker's sick little giggles. He sticks me in the driver's seat of a tanker and tells me I'm now the dead switch. If the Batman drags my ass out of that seat, the fail-safe triggers a five second countdown and…KABOOM! It kinda stuck after that. The name not the…Nevermind._

_And yes...He did drag me out. Did anyone else know that cape of his is fire resistant?_

_Are we done now?_

Yes.

_Good. I hate you on a scale I never imagined possible. _

Tune in next Saturday! Maybe. Hopefully. We'll be here waiting for more questions!


	16. Informants and Clowns

A/N: Wednesday updates! Hooray! This week's _Ask a minion_'s is going to have a specific topic - Riddler. It's got to be hell living with him.

_Oh it is. Don't think I've forgotten about being kidnapped however._

On the subject of this update: Do I need to reiterate the fact Switch hates and fears Clowns? Edward's parting shot was still harsh though. Ouch.

* * *

She'd been staring at it for a full five minutes, her eyes wide, and her face unusually pale. Edward Nigma was not the most observant man in the world when it came to anything beyond his beloved puzzles or his most hated enemy, but since he'd noticed, she'd stared at the clown across the road for a good while.

Occasionally, on the cusp of hearing, she let out a tiny squeak.

The clown wasn't doing anything particularly threatening; he was actually making balloon animals for the grabby children clustered around him.

He wasn't even looking at the two people who were waiting for an informant on the park bench.

'Dead Switch.'

'Hnngh…'

'You've been staring at that clown for five minutes; he's starting to look worried.' Riddler noted.

'Clowns…' She moaned softly. 'Why clowns?'

He had no idea she suffered from Coulrophobia. Jon would have had a field day. Was it the clashing colours that horrified her? Or the garish make-up he'd plastered onto his face? Or maybe it was his over the top wig?

Or was, as Riddler suspected, she seeing only one _particular_ clown?

The sun was beginning to set and the shadows stretched. Slowly, the crowd of children dispersed.

Switch managed to tear her eyes away from the terrifying apparition as he packed his equipment away.

'When's he supposed to show, anyway?'

'Right now.' Riddler smirked.

The clown sat down between them casually. 'Hey.'

The scream was unnecessarily loud for the afternoon and drew way too much attention, thankfully only from the dispersing children.

Switch scrambled off the bench, and stumbled in the dirt for a few steps before she managed to get around the corner, much to the clown's astonishment. 'What's wrong with her?'

'I ask myself that frequently.'


	17. Ask a minion 2

We've got another round!

_Oh fantastic. _

Don't make me bust out the smut again.

_What is it this time?_

**Readingstuff4fun: If you could be boss for a day, what would you do?**

_What would I do? What would any self respecting egotist do? Abuse a position of power almost immediately. Specifically? I'd make dearest Edward say the stupidest statements I could possibly come up with. Hourly. I'd make him clean and cook and run out at god knows what time on whatever psychotic whim I have, regardless of his current task. Instead of banks and warehouses we'd rob Krispy Kreme and Dunkin Donuts with a Starbucks chaser. Avoid Batman at all costs and hey- I might even throw Eddie to the wolves for a change if we get caught. You know, everything he makes me do._

_Oh it would just be delightful. Unfortunately, I'd get a horrific punishment for the abuse once I was forced to relinquish power. _

_But thank you for such a happy thought. _

What would you make him say?

_What? I don't know, I never really considered it. Maybe 'If you look up pompous in the dictionary, there's me!' or how about 'I look like a psychotic leprechaun!'? Ooh how about 'I sleep with a teddy named Epicurus!' He really does you know. It's tatty as hell. _


	18. Information

A/N: It's the Wednesday update! Is it hump day already? Ah well, have some Switch being professional! You don't see much of that! The things Eddie does for money...

Did I forget Ask a Minion is back on Saturday? So ask the minion!

* * *

They'd been waiting for over an hour now for their meeting; they weren't going to wait for much longer.

Dean 'Deano' Pazcalli was just about to call it a night when he heard footsteps echoing in the empty warehouse.

They were too light to be a man; the figure was too short too. A busy looking woman entered the light of the car's lamps. 'Good evening gentlemen.' She flashed a quick smile.

Guns were drawn and pointed at her head, but that hardly seemed to intimidate her. 'Who the hell are you?'

'An emissary.' She unzipped her jacket just enough for him to see the scarf around her neck. Deano waved a hand and the guns were reluctantly lowered.

'We were expectin' Riddler.' He grunted.

The woman's smile grew genuine. 'I can assure you, Riddler is watching. He wants to make it clear his time will not be wasted. I'm here simply to make sure you are serious with your offer.'

'And you are…?'

'Dead Switch.' She answered.

Deano could practically feel the men in the car behind him look her up and down. Every one was that kind of man, the kind of man who'll do it to everyone with boobs no matter what they looked like or what they wore.

He had to admit though, she had a nice smile. Shame the eyes were so cold, they held no pity.

'So, how does this go?' He asked.

She smiled again. 'It's going, Mister Pazcalli. Now, tell me what kind of work you had in mind.'

'Mister Falcone would like some….People found.' Deano muttered, uncomfortable in the fact she knew his name. 'He's willing to pay handsomely for any information. It's real urgent too. He knows Riddler's the best and he wants the best.'

'Do you have a list?' She asked.

Deano pulled a much folded, much crumpled paper from his pocket and handed it to her. Her fingers felt cold to the touch.

Her eyes darted to the left, as though she were listening to something. 'Excuse me I have to make a phone-call.'

'Go on then, Sweetheart. But Mister Falcone doesn't like to hear bad news.'

He waited patiently and listened intently as she whispered into the phone. Words like _'Idiot, five goddamn minutes, need the money and pays handsomely'_ Floated past. It seemed the argument for was outweighing the argument against. She read the list out and listened for some time.

Finally the call ended and Dead Switch returned.

'The job seems credible. His terms are a quarter million per-person.'

'Seems fair.' Deano replied with a grin. 'We'll see you-'

'Mister Falcone will receive an e-mail in one hour with his information.' Switch continued. 'Riddler wants the money in an unmarked briefcase, here, in exactly two hours.'

That threw Deano off. 'I'll have to confirm this with my employer.' He muttered sheepishly. He knew the guy was fast, but that fast?

'You do that.' Switch replied and folded her arms. 'I'll be here.'

She couldn't be serious. Deano would not fancy her chances in here with some of the looks the thugs were giving her. But when he looked into those cold, killer eyes, he knew she really wasn't going to budge and she probably was going to murder the first idiot who touched her.

That reasoning alone was probably why he'd made it up the ranks of the mob while they remained cheap muscle.

Still, there were four of them and one of her…

'Do call your employer Mister Pazcalli. I can assure you _I'm_ going to be perfectly alright.'

Those terrifying eyes again. The phrasing of it was damn creepy too. In the end, it was her call. Deano couldn't be held accountable for what she wanted.

'Uh…Sure…' He said at last and practically ran for the hanger door.

Crazy bitch. He would have definitely preferred to do business with Riddler. At least with him, you knew exactly what he was capable of.

He was just typing in the last digit when he heard the first shot.


	19. Ask a minion 3

Ask a minion 3

What kind of teddy bear?

_The missing an eye and maybe half a limb kind. Exactly the kind that looks like it's been savaged by a dog and then carefully stitched back together. You don't mess with a man's teddy bear. There's no telling what he'll do. Be warned._

**Bat-teen 28: What would happen if Edward found out you let slip he sleeps with a teddy bear?**

_Well he threatened to use me to test one of the traps for Batgit if that information was made public. The incredibly deadly death trap variety. He promised it was going to be painful and humiliating and he'd record it for his own enjoyment- I mean possible educational purposes. But he isn't going to find out, __**is he?**_

_If he did, then I wouldn't possibly be able to tell you crazy kidnappers anything else that you would like to know. What do you freaky fangirls want to know anyway? _

Everything. At least until it becomes uninteresting.

_So all I need to do is be boring? I can do that._

No. Ooh look! There's another one! It's a new asker!

_Welcome to hell, what's wrong with __**your**__ head?_

Don't be snide.

**Darkwolf1121: Is Switch on any friendly terms with any other Rogues and/or hench people besides Jester and Edward?**

_Of course I am. I'm not a social pariah. Despite the fact I really hate her boyfriend, Harley's nice. We hang out every so often. She usually brings Ivy, who is also nice in a –Oh shit she's going to kill me if I bring up Riddler- capacity. They have issues they still need to address, of course he's only happy to avoid her at all costs cause hey, she's a psychotic plant lady. Maxie Zeus is so far out there it's impossible to hide the insanity, but he's hilarious when he's not trying to make you into a mythological character and he has the best stories and anecdotes. Doctor Crane…Is he a friend? He's a jerk on occasion. Don't ever accept tea from him that you haven't personally watched him prepare. Could save you a world of hurt there._

_Henchmen are a little difficult. They have a shelf life and more often than not, they don't last long. They're so easily replaceable. Even I'm replaceable. Isn't that nice? It's a lesson I'm continually forced to relearn in this job. Don't get attached. I get on with Mannie and Zowie, that's all I need. That and a glance at Hatter's henchmen every once in a while just to confirm my decisions. Tweedle dum and Tweedle dee are creepy as hell, man. _


	20. Dangling

A/N: So I've been on a bit of a pity tangent this week, but you know what? I'm not even sorry about this one. There's something funny about a fuming woman dangling upside down with puke in her hair and it's totally nonthreatening. Batman will pay. Switch's hair still smells like vomit.

Ask A minion! Saturday! got some great questions to answer!

* * *

Switch folded her arms and blew a strand of hair out of her eyes.

Of all the ways Batman _could_ have restrained her…

'Careful now, careful!'

She watched them below her, positioning crash mats and fetching ladders that were eventually tossed since they were too short to reach her.

Of all the ways Batman _could_ have restrained her, and there were _many_, he chose this.

The nausea had passed some time ago but not without casualty. In the freezing Gotham air, the disgusting liquid had quickly dried to her face and hair but that hardly impacted the smell. Getting dragged back to Arkham with vomit in one's hair was not, in the least, appealing. Especially since the showers were so cold they were nearly arctic and they never lasted long enough to get all the chunks out.

Nigma had been escorted away a little while ago. At least the dork knight had dragged him out of his latest death trap, thoroughly beaten but not hogtied and more importantly, free of bile.

A cop met her unhappy sight line. Finally, they'd found a ladder big enough.

He opened a switchblade and began to saw through the tough rope around her ankles.

She chose to ignore him. She wasn't in the mood to play nice, not after ending up like this and she desperately wanted to make a nuisance of herself in custody _just once_. Honestly it was so hard to act like a sane and civil person when she was strung up like this.

But she knew that misbehaving while in custody would only earn her some extra sanctions on top of the normal ones and while police and Arkham staff were quick to forget how placid and amenable you normally are, they've often for long memories for misbehaving inmates.

So instead she played dead. She wasn't going to say or do anything to help or hinder the people forced to rescue her. It was a childish move, akin to a sulking five year old but it was the best way she could think of to work out her frustrations at the situation she'd been left in.

This was entirely Batman's fault. If he hadn't have left her like this, then she wouldn't be in such a foul mood. She must have done something that Batman didn't like to be on the receiving end of one of his worst restraints, damned if she knew what it was though.

Had it been the fact she had a gun? Batman hated guns. Or maybe it was the hostages? The all important dignitaries who had visited Gotham for a conference.

Maybe it was just that he was having a bad day. At least he hadn't beaten her up too badly before she was strung up, he'd saved most of that for Riddler.

She heard the rope creak and then snap. Even though she knew it was coming, the plummet still caused her to gasp. She didn't have enough time to scream before she hit the pre-placed mat.

Switch was pulled from the crash mat roughly and handcuffed to be escorted away, still a sulking, petulant ball of anger.

Of all the ways Batman could have restrained her, did it have to be dangling upside down from a gargoyle?


	21. Ask a minion 4

It's Saturday! You all know what happens on Saturdays don't you? Ask a minion! We're a little early today 'cause Swordstitcher has some backbreaking Christmas shopping to do later. *cries*

So...

Wow this show's getting popular, maybe. Hopefully.

_Do you really care that much about what people on the internet think of us? _

…Maybe?

_Pathetic. My author is pathetic. Can I get a new author?_

Shut up and answer the questions our reviewers have sent!

**Darkwolf1121 says: Thanks for picking my question! And if it wasn't obvious, I really like your stories**

_This isn't even a question!_

Answer it anyway.

_I'm forced to answer your questions. I'm tied to a chair waiting for my lazy employer to rescue me. It helps pass the time. I'm glad my life is entertaining you. Where did you say you lived again?_

Don't make me find a picture of Joker to torture you with.

_You were the one that told me to answer. Spoilsport. _

**Bat-teen28: Yo, What do you think of Jester?**

_Yo? Are we still in the nineties? I like Jester. She's like the little sister I long to throttle on appropriate occasions. When we are up against each other - which is rare- we do at least try not to hurt each other too badly, but what can you do to a psychotic fourteen year old with a pain threshold an adult would be proud of? One of the few people I'm willing to help out when there is no presentable advantage or payment offered. Even if she resembles my favourite clowny fear. I can put that aside, mostly. Sometimes I wish she'd trust me a little more, but whatever floats her boat. I'm not going to push her anymore than she does of me. What happens in the past is only for a few trusted people to know. I would and have killed for her before; I'll do it again at some point. _

**Scribblescribblescribble: Can I still ask Switch a question? Here goes: If the slate was wiped clean, and you could go anywhere, do anything-what would it be?**

Of course you can! She's got to answer.

_I have no idea. What's it like to be sane? It's been that long. I suppose I'd travel, see the sights, cause mayhem…Wait…That's fun, not sane. Gotta know the difference. Eh, sometimes it's the same thing, but not very often. _

_Maybe I'd just take the opportunity to kill Roland Dagett sooner than I planned. I've been putting that off for a while now. Working for Nigma eats up weeks of your time and when there's nothing to do, you treasure it. My own personal vendettas are left for those joyeous times he's stuck in Arkham and I'm on the lamb._

They don't call you the sanest insane inmate at Arkham for nothing.

_They don't. That's a stupid title. _

Hey, I liked it!

_Someone….Anyone? New author? PLEASE?! _


	22. Assessment

A/N: _Did I ever mention how much I loathe the term Cupcake and any variation of the endearment? Boles was lucky to have the cops on his side this time, No, this isn't Swordstitcher, fans. This is Dead Switch. This Saturday's Ask a minion will, unfortunately for my author, be the end. Permanently. So ask a question, shout for Batman for all I care. Just stay tuned, won't you? You might get a glimpse of what's in store for **you**._

* * *

'Well, well.' Boles laughed as Gotham P.D dragged their latest find through the doors. 'Deborah.'

Switch sighed as she was dragged to the desk and came face to face with the most hated guard in all of Arkham. Of course it would be him on duty today, wouldn't it?

'Boles.' She greeted unhappily.

'Just her? Where's Nigma?' Boles asked her escort.

'He went straight to intensive treatment to have his arm set.' The cop on her right supplied.

'Well that's a shame.' Boles simpered. He snatched up a clipboard and began to scribble on a form.

'Patient name, Deborah S…W…'

'A-I-N.' Switch supplied as he struggled. 'Height is five foot five inches, hair colour-' She rattled off.

'I got it cupcake, thanks. Condition upon entry…' He glanced up at her and Switch sighed. She was wet, muddy and slightly bruised, but at last she wasn't singed this time. '…Acceptable.' Boles muttered.

'Charged with what? Nineteen murders now isn't it?' Switch asked.

'Shut up.' Her escort grunted.

'They're just mad the last one was-'

Her face was slammed into the desk. 'I said shut up!' the escort on the right growled as he twisted her arm painfully.

'Fuck I'm sorry your idiot friend wasn't smart enough to- OW!' He twisted harder. Maybe it was best if she did shut up. Taunting captors was for people with better pain thresholds.

Honestly, why were they so mad? He'd been the one to walk into the trap. He'd been the one to activate it. He'd also been the one to get things wrong. They'd gotten to him while he was still alive but the delightful little neuro-toxin Nigma had rigged in that particular trap was already wreaking havoc on his body. By the way his friends acted, she had to guess his prognosis wasn't good.

The force was finally released and Switch straightened up.

'You know the drill Deborah.'

Oh she did. Boles held up what looked like a portable speed camera, but it focused on and scanned her iris. The procedure was painful, but she blinked away the pain as her Arkham file pinged onto the computer.

He tapped a few keys roughly, amending her record with the latest stint.

'Identity confirmed.' Boles muttered boredly. He tapped the radio at his shoulder and requested a female doctor for intake examination.

The wait was an awkward one, she knew. Especially considering the cops had debated a stop off on the way down to Arkham for some personal revenge.

'So Deborah, what happened this time?' Boles asked.

Switch sighed. 'I'm not telling you.'

'At least tell me the part where Nigma broke his arm.' Boles smirked.

'Fuck you.' Switch snapped back.

'You requested a doctor from medical?' Someone else had joined them just as Boles finished penning his signature to the prisoner exchange form the cops had handed to him.

'Patient needs assessing.' Boles jabbed a thumb at her.

Switch was pulled into an examination room and given the once over.

Exactly how many times had she been through this? She didn't remember but it had to be at least in the double digits now.

She was handed a set of scrubs and a jumpsuit as the doctor recorded her findings.

'Patient two, six, zero, zero, four shows mild abrasions to her face and torso. Patient exhibits no other outward sign of injury.'

Switch was treated to a freezing cold shower to get rid of the mud and blood and changed unhappily into the jumpsuit as the doctor concluded her assessment.

'Patient two, six, zero, zero, four has been logged in, requires no medical assistance. Red flagged for Delusional Parasitosis and Intermittent Explosive Disorder. Patient-'

Switch zoned out as the cuffs were re-applied to her wrists and she was dragged through to intake and roughly forced to sit on one of the long uncomfortable wooden benches while they arranged for care while she was in this hellhole.

'_Whoo-hoo-hoo_ look what the cat dragged in!'

That laugh, that bloody laugh. She knew it too well. It dragged her back into reality so fast she could have sworn she had whiplash. Her head turned, she was sure the blood draining from her face was visible. Her throat dried up almost instantly.

'Batman's been busy!' Harley agreed from the other end of the room.

'He has Harls. Yes he has. How ya' doin' Switchy?' Joker giggled from the other end of the bench.

She screamed.

At the intake desk, Boles paused and laughed as he listened to the shrieks and crashes of furniture. He returned to signing his forms with a smirk.


	23. Ask a minion 5

_Hello loyal viewers of Swordstitcher. She's indisposed at the minute. Heh. So I'm running the show now. She's going to have some 'One on one' time later with Riddler when he's finished shopping, but definitely not in the way she'd like._

_Lets just say we're making an example of her. No-one kidnaps and asks asinine questions of me. Nigma takes unhappily to having to track me down when he needs something. Didn't you all learn that from Hatter?_

_I see she's got more sleeting in. Lovely. I'll have a list of conspirators in no time._

_Let's just get this straight. I. Do. Not. Encourage. This. I have things to do and being kidnapped was never one of them. _

_The following people will be hunted down and taught a thing or two about wrath-_

Send help!

_Shut up. _

Send Batman!

_I thought you were gagged? Anyway, I'm going to take your final questions before we gut her. And please, for the love of god don't say 'Why?' I'm an insane murderer. It's like my hobby. _

_Now, who's first on my little list of revenge? Ah. _

**Darkwolf1121: Fine, Switch. Let's say you COULD get a new author. Any well-known authors you would want to write your story, like Stephen King or JK Rolling?**

_Someone perfectly happy to write the disturbed, depraved things I generally do and won't focus so much on my…Failings. I really don't scream as much as she makes it out to be and I'm so sick of her poking fun at my fear of clowns. Does anyone find that funny anymore? Someone like Kathy Reichs. Jeffery Deaver. Terry Pratchett._

Wow, you like your crime books, don't you?

_I like working out the killers. Okay? Nigma always works it out before me and then he tauntes me with it. It's infuriating. _

And Discworld?

_His books are insightful, witty and hilarious. What's wrong with that, exactly?_

Nothing! Please remove the knife…

_No. All the times you've poked fun at my fear of clowns, you deserve a shank or two. _

Can you at least answer another question before I get stabbed to death?

**Scribblescribblescribble: Argh. What a terrible welcome back. Gotham seriously needs more than one mental health facility for costumes. I admire Switch's resiliance and aptitude for staying alive. How does she do it?**

_Yes. It does. It really does. Meeting Joker in Intake after Batman's beaten him up is not a good thing. It's considerably worse when Boles is the one on desk. I have capricious luck and quick reflexes. It gets me into trouble but I'm generally able to survive long enough to give me an opportunity to escape. Still, I avoid relying on it too much. You generally find that once you feel invincible, you fall. _

Did you hear that?

_Urgh. Speaking of invincible- Batman. Again. _

Yes!

_While he's busy trying to get in, I'll answer one more. _

You like doing these don't you?

_No. I just don't like leaving things unfinished. _

**Readingstuff4fun: Switch, may I ask how you escaped? Also, should you hurt Swordstitcher it would be quite easy to let Nigma know that you told us about the bear.**

_Let's just say that you really should take the battery from a phone that is GPS enabled if you want to hide your location. _

Whoops?

_Lucky for me, she failed to do just that. Turning it off won't stop the signal, genius. Nigma sprang me. He was not impressed. He never is when he has to come and get me out of a situation I shouldn't be in. There will be words. Unfortunately. _

_You wouldn't tell him about the bear….Would you?_

They would. They want me to keep writing about you.

_God damnit. I knew I should have kept my mouth shut. Fine. I won't hurt her. This time, but I fail to understand what's so entertaining about watching me fail and scream and do normal business._

It's an intrigue thing. I think Batman's beating up Nigma. Aren't you going to go rescue him?

_Urgh. Batman's always beating up Nigma. Well, it looks like she and the rest of you are lucky this time. I've got to go rescue Riddler, but be warned, I see any of you around the hideout and I'll play a game of Livewire. _

_Freaky fangirls. _

Is she gone? She is? Thank god for Batman. And my ace reviewers.

Thank you to Bat-teen28, Darkwolf1121, Scribblescribblescribble and Readingstuff4fun.

I live to document another fail. Hoorah!


	24. Saved

A/N: What's this? Three chapters in one go? Have I lost my mind? No! I just can't stand to leave people in suspense. It kills me. But look! Drama! Lots of it! I really don't often post drama , I like my writing light and hilarious because that's why I write. I like funnies and I'm kind of in the middle of writers block with I've Got Questions so have some flamey love.

* * *

Fire, was there anything more unpredictable? There was a good chance the flames weren't going to kill her, but the real killer would be the thick acrid smoke that was already doing it's best to choke the life out of her.

She'd been separated from the doors by falling debris and had found a little pocket of air to breathe, but even that was slowly diminishing.

That didn't mean she was going to go foetal and cry, she still had her dignity.

How the hell had this happened? One minute things were fine, the next the entire place was burning down.

Well, that wasn't technically true. The last thing she remembered before the flames had cut her off was Nigma and Batman fighting, again.

The heat was immense and to one side she could hear propane cylinders creak and hiss in warning, once one split, they all would and Switch would be a bloody smear across a wall.

How many other ways besides fire, smoke and debris was this damn warehouse going to try to kill her?

She choked as a passing cloud of black smoke robbed her of her oxygen. Her eyes watered as they came into contact with it and now she couldn't see, she felt hope waning.

She was going to die. Switch was positively sure of it.

Were her ears playing tricks or did she hear a curse from her right? She could feel the debris shift and fire crackle as she strained her hearing, but no shouts.

The catwalk in flames above her slipped and planks of wood rained down on her sanctuary.

Oh so it was going to be suffocation by flaming debris? Wasn't that overkill?

She felt her vision crumbling as the fire and smoke advanced. She couldn't breathe anymore. Her pocket of air was almost gone, the oxygen had fed the flames and they were advancing. She felt herself slump to the floor.

_I'm not going out like this…Am I? I still have so much to do. I need to take down Daggett Industries, I need to expose the corruption of this city, I still need to pick up Nigma's dry-cleaning!_

There it was again, on the cusp of hearing, a shout.

She tried to talk, to tell someone she was there, but her throat was coated in ash and closing up fast. She wasn't capable of much more than coughing.

Just as things were getting dark, she felt a shift in the air flow and a muscled arm around her waist. Seconds later she was out in the biting cold and being laid on the freezing ground. He pulled back to let the paramedics through and Switch realized who had actually saved her.

Seeing him next time was going to be awkward as hell.

An oxygen mask went over her face and an icy cloth was laid across her forehead. The first canister blew as she was loaded into the ambulance.

How do you thank a man you more often than not, tried to kill?

All eyes turned to the display of fiery wrath that took down a good half of the building. When she turned back, he was gone.

How do you thank Batman?


	25. Paying Dues

A/N: Someone once commented that Switch has never screwed up. She has, frequently, but not to this kind of scale. Never to this kind of scale. You do not go to Batman, ever. Especially with the contents of Nigma's precious hard-drive. She learned that lesson.

* * *

She shouldn't be here. Nigma was going to kill her if he found out what she was doing.

He probably would at some point, but she'd been so very careful. She had to be if she wanted to make this drop off.

Crime Alley. It was ironic he wanted to exchange it here. This was where Bruce Wayne's parents bit it. Where many of the lowlife thugs hung out, but today there was no-one.

Which was good for the purposes of this meeting. She needed no witnesses.

Casually, she checked the time. Five oh five. He was five minutes late.

'Dead Switch.'

She resisted the urge to jump at the growl behind her shoulder and strangled the compulsion to scream, but she did whip around in alarm.

He slid out of the shadows effortlessly. 'Do you have it?'

She strangled her usual sarcastic comment and reached into her bra. The faster she got this over with the less chance Nigma was going to find out. Her fingers came out with a micro SD and handed it over. 'That's all the information we have.'

'On what?'

'On everything. Criminals, police, the mob…'

Everything but Riddler's plans. Switch may have stuck her neck out, but she wasn't going to hand him the axe to finish it.

Batman had saved her from burning to death. This was the return deed. After this she could go back to trying to kill him and being happy.

She'd paid her dues.

'We're good now.' She announced as he slid the card into a gadget and scrolled through the files.

Batman gave his usual noncommittal grunt.

Switch turned in alarm when she heard a bottle break, when she turned back, he was gone.

Oh well. Debt repaid, balance cleared, conscience clean. She could go back to the hideout and pretend none of this ever happened.

She turned to leave but found her way blocked. The hairs on the back of her neck rose when she heard the sigh. 'Switch. I'm disappointed.'

It had taken him a lot less time than she'd anticipated.

The cane came up and forced her into the slimy wall.

She had to wonder how angry he was.

'I'm so _very_ disappointed.'

Oh, furious.


	26. Sanctuary

A/N: What started out as a lone piece and then became a two parter has finally become a trilogy. *shrug* I dunno how to feel about that. Ah the life of a lackey is a complicated one. Sometimes, you just gotta take your beatings.

* * *

Jester's place wasn't the nicest pad in Gotham, it was riddled with damp and close enough to the railway to keep you up on a night, but she liked it nonetheless.

It was her place. Hardly anyone knew about it.

She was just about to settle down for a night on her own when she heard the frantic banging on the door.

Jester grabbed her gun because – Hey, this was Gotham and eased the door open just a fraction.

She didn't expect to find Switch slumped against the frame.

The pistol was pulled away and Jester opened the door wider to let her pass. She hobbled through and sank against the wall. One arm was wrapped around her ribs, the other was held up to her eye. Blood was seeping through her fingers effortlessly.

'Jesus Switch, what happened?'

'I did something stupid.' She grunted.

Jester frowned but went to the kitchen for some hot water and some bandages without demanding an answer to her injuries.

It took some struggling but Jester finally prised Switch's hand from her eye and she had to whistle. The cut was deep. Going to scar deep. It was lucky that she hadn't lost her eye.

'What happened?' She demanded as she pressed a hot cloth to the wound. Switch hissed in pain.

'I did something stupid.' She replied again. She looked to be in shock.

'I can see that.' Jester muttered dryly. 'Alright then…Who did this?'

'Riddler.'

That surprised her. 'Eddie did this? What the hell did you do Switch?'

'I gave Batman information.'

This time it was Jester's turn to hiss. 'Are you insane?'

'Sanity and I parted company a long time ago.' Switch snorted. Jester laughed as she cleaned the wound to the best of her ability.

'I kinda figured.'

The way Switch held her side, it was clear she'd broken some ribs, or Eddie had broken them for her, but there was nothing Jester could do about that besides bandaging them for a little protection. She was however, going to need to stitch the wound to her face closed.

She pulled out a bottle of vodka and splashed a good amount into a cup; another slug went onto a cloth that was pressed to her face. Switch howled but Jester was prepared for it. 'Drink up; you're going to need stitches.'

Switch threw the glass back and took a gulp to ease the pain as Jester looked for needle and thread.

To distract her from the stitching she was about to begin, Jester decided to prod the shit-storm a little further. 'Why the hell did you give Batman information?' She asked.

'He…I owed him a favour.' Switch choked on the strong alcohol and Jester paused her stitching.

'Is this to do with the whole burning warehouse a few months ago?'

'Yeah. Hey Neon?'

'What Smart-Mouth?' Jester muttered as she began to pull the skin together.

'You mind if I stay here tonight?' Switch muttered as she gulped more vodka. 'He needs time to cool down.'

'Well I can't turf you out now.' Jester replied with a smile as she cut the thread, her job done.

'Thanks…'

They both paused when they heard the knocking at the door. Jester abandoned her to open it slightly but was pushed out of the way by a barely civil Edward Nigma.

'Come on Dead Switch.'

For a moment, Switch looked undecided, but then stumbled to her feet. Jester however pushed Edward back out into the corridor. 'You're not taking her Eddie.'

'She does what I-!'

Jester however was looking furious. 'She nearly lost an eye.'

'Then it'll be a lesson.' He snarled back. 'Don't get involved J.'

'Why are you even here?' Jester exploded. 'It's pretty damn clear you haven't calmed down yet!'

'They won't shut the hell up.' He snapped. 'They keep asking for her!'

'And who is they?' Jester grit out.

'Those idiot buffoons Mannie and Zowie!' Edward spat.

Jester sucked in a breath to make what was sure to be an inflammatory remark, but felt a hand on her shoulder. 'You can't seriously-' She deflated as Switch pulled her in for a hug.

'Thanks Neon.' Switch smiled sadly.

Jester could only watch helplessly as she trailed after him.


	27. Revenge

A/N: I _was_ going to post up something else that's been sitting in my folder for what felt like forever. However this popped into my head and it's begging to get out.

Virtual cookies for anyone who knows Switch's trigger word.

* * *

Revenge was always sweet. It was all the sweeter when it was well deserved. It wasn't the bullying, intimidation or even the blatant assholery. That was just Boles' charm at work. It wasn't even that the coward worked for Joker, it went deeper than that.

It was a well known war with Switch over the only word guaranteed to drive her crazy. It was funny really. Of all the scummy things Boles was, the one thing she hated above all was the term he only ever used for her.

Boles screamed as she drove the sharpened screwdriver into his knee and gave it a twist. He bucked and squirmed as pain wracked his body.

Not that it was going to do much good. She'd tied him to the desk quite well and was using his abdomen a cushion as she considered where to attack next.

Both knees were a bloody mess, his legs were littered with puncture marks and she'd taken a spirited attack of his shoulders. She wanted to leave his face alone, mainly so she could carry on her conversations.

Besides, what the fuck could she do to make him uglier than he already was?

He finally went limp and began to plead through the gag. 'Please….Please….'

Switch looked down to his sweat slicked face. 'Have you learned you lesson Frank?'

'I'm sorry Deborah-'

She drove the spike into his upper thigh. He screamed and began to thrash again, his face brightening to a vivid red in seconds. Switch rode out the bucking and squealing.

'How many times, Frank? It's Dead Switch. Not Deborah.' He was muffled by the gag but she heard the name being repeated back to her. 'Good boy. Keep this up and you might retain the use of your legs.'

He began to cry again and Switch sighed. If this were Cash, he'd be as stoic as ever unless Croc was involved. Boles however was a softy really. She'd hardly touched him after all.

'Joker's gonna hear about this!' He rallied somewhat, possibly hoping that the demented clowns involvement would ward her from another attack on his limbs. Switch failed to care.

'Good Frankie. I hope he does. And when he asks you what you did to deserve this. Tell him what my pet peeve is.'

'Cup-'

'Ah?' She waved the bloody shank. 'Don't even say it Frank.'

The door rocked on it's hinges. The doorknob rattled.

'Boles? Boles man, are ya in there?'

Switch sighed.

'YES! GOD YES!' Boles screamed through the gag. 'HELP ME!'

She flipped the screwdriver around and planted it into Boles bloody knee socket. He screamed all the harder for the sudden jolt of pain.

'Well, that's my cue to leave Frank. Seems the party poopers have finally arrived.'

She left him tied and gagged to the desk, her shank sticking straight up out of his knee and moved towards the window as the door bucked under a shoulder but held.

Boles lost all sense of control, begging to be rescued.

Switch laughed and ducked out of the window as the door flew apart under the second blow and guards rushed into the room.

By the time they'd untied him and administered first aid, Dead Switch had absconded from Arkham Asylum.


	28. Running

A/N: This one's quite old. Around the time I was still defining what Switch was and how she thought. I would have just deleted it, but there's something in it that I can't quite pinpoint.

Why do they need the diamonds? I don't quite know. I think he just wanted to steal something for the challenge or maybe he needed the money for a scheme. All I know is - It usually ends up this way but for once, she doesn't seem to mind. Switch is in that kind of mood.

* * *

Running. There was an awful lot of running involved in Riddler's plans.

He also had a penchant about leaving clues to his heists. Be it diamonds or dirt, they had to have a warning that he was dropping by, whether or not they figured it out wasn't of consequence.

He'd like to think that he took his time and sauntered about his business, but really once the Batman turned up you had to run. It was instinct.

So it was hardly surprising that while they were transferring the diamonds from the safe to the bag, Batman dropped in.

Thanks to his long legs, Nigma was in front as they ran for the doors. Switch was also held down by the bag. They may have been small, but enough diamonds in the bag and it became heavy.

Still, she had to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. How did it always end with the caped crusader chasing them? It was almost clichéd.

They burst out of the building and down the street as the Bat skidded out behind them. Riddler slowed and dropped behind her; she wasn't going to turn around to find out what he was doing, he was more than capable of taking care of himself and she needed to get the diamonds to the truck without losing a gem.

She heard the metallic _zing_ of baterangs behind her, but still, she wasn't going to stop.

The van was around the corner and if Mannie and Zowie had heard the commotion going on down the street they would have the engine ticking over and ready to go.

She skidded around the corner and pulled herself back sharply when she saw the second caped figure drop from the roof. It was easy enough to dodge the staff; she was used to avoiding Riddler's cane. She kicked him and heard a satisfying grunt as she dodged around and made an end-run for the van.

The back door was opening; she could see Zowie with his hand outstretched.

'Catch!'

She threw the bag just as boy wonder tripped her up. It wasn't a perfect throw but he caught it and the door slammed shut. She heard the screech of tyres as boot connected with her spine.

She was dragged back into the street and towards the two people one stood, one sat in the middle of the road.

Looked like Nigma had done about as well as she had.

Despite being handcuffed and dragged through the dirt to eventually end up back in Arkham, she was still in a good mood.

Honestly? This was more work for Batman than it was for her and while the Dork Knight was busy with them, Mannie and Zowie had a chance to escape.

Arkham wasn't that difficult to get out of anyway.


	29. Kill Steven Moffat

A/N: It appears that, thanks to Christmas, i've fallen behind in my editing. Huh. I have nothing finished _at all_. Nothing except...This. Crack!Fic ahoy!

Warning: Foul language used and death threats against Steven Moffat. Also: Spoilers for Sherlock season two. Switch likes Bad boys. She doesn't like it when they kill them off.

Nigma also wants to kill Mr. Moffat, but for a completely different reason.

* * *

'NO! NOT AGAIN!'

Edward sighed. He knew women were prone to more violent outbursts, they had trouble not expressing their feelings and that above all- they liked to throw things.

'FUCKING STEVEN MOFFAT!'

But still, the energy she put into trashing her third laptop was truly astounding. He could hear the crashes at it all but broke into it's component parts under the strain of being thrown.

It would help if he understood why, but then again, he didn't care. He just wanted her to shut up for five damn minutes and let him concentrate on his blueprints.

'NO! NO! _NO!_ HOW CAN HE BE _DEAD?!_'

Evidently one of the characters on her beloved soaps had died.

Finally, it seemed she was settling down. Her door banged open and she grumbled as she came out into the main warehouse with her garish "#1 Minion!" mug. She was scowling as she tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for the kettle to boil or burst into flames under her glare.

'What happened then?' He may as well let her vent now and save himself a protracted vent on the subject later.

'It's worse than The Master.' Switch grumbled. 'Much worse. He committed suicide.'

Suicide can be amusing, certainly. Especially if you're the one who pushes them to do it. But this was not the funny kind. Or wouldn't be _if any of them were real_.

'There'll be another one.' Nigma promised in a vague manner.

'At least Sherlock died.' She muttered unhappily. 'Suicide again.'

'There's a lot of suicide on that show.' Nigma noted.

Switch grumbled and shoved hot chocolate into her mug. 'If I ever find Steven Moffat I'm going to teach him a thing or two about killing.' She muttered darkly.

'Of course. ' Nigma's voice lost all sense of sympathy now that it appeared as though she were calming down. 'Now will you shut up for five minutes and let me concentrate on my calculations?'

'Sorry.' She muttered.

She retreated back into her room with the mug. There were the sounds of scraping as she attempted to get the damaged thing back into working condition. For a few blessed minutes, Edward had silence.

'_**HOW IS HE STILL ALIVE?!'**_

Edward sat back and ran a hand through his hair. If _he_ ever found Steven Moffat, the man's death would be long and protracted.

He felt the beginnings of a headache as the sounds of a laptop smashing bounced around the warehouse.

Make that long, protracted and painful.


	30. Solo

A/N: And so Switch was trusted not to screw up for once in her life and get things done on her own. Though he was still watching everything she was doing just to confirm he hadn't made a grievous mistake.

PS: I'm sorry to confirm, Asylum Blues and Dead Switch will be taking a break for the foreseeable future. But don't fret pretty people. Switch isn't gone completely, you can still get your fill of her on another story – Bad Decisions by scribblescribblescribble where she's guest starring and I would totally recommend reading it anyway because it's a fabulous romance with a character not really focused on in the Batman chapter of FF.

Meanwhile Double S will be working on something new for our king of conundrums entitled The Rules- look out for it soon ;)

Warning: Bad language!

* * *

It was another good day in Gotham, at least for the First National Bank. Their intake was doing exceedingly well and the vault swelled with cash. Profit was even better than usual for once. Greeter Eddie Dunn was barely able to keep up with the customers flocking into the bank during the heatwave.

If only the air conditioning would work, they may have been happier. It was the middle of summer, swelteringly hot and the system had failed earlier this morning.

The engineer had only just shown up to fix it and unusually, the person in the overalls was not a man, it was a woman.

The nametag read G. Tyler.

'You got a problem with yer environmental controls?' She muttered.

'Ah, yes. You were sent by the company?' Eddie asked.

'Wouldn't be here, otherwise.' She replied. 'Rather be in the van. It's a hot one.'

'It certainly is.' He plucked a handkerchief from his pocket and swiped it across his bald head. 'The sooner you get it fixed, the better.'

'You got access around back?' She asked. 'I need the van close as can be.'

Eddie nodded. 'I'll instruct security to open up for you.'

''Preciate it.' She muttered. 'The lads will drive it round for me. Where's maintenance?'

'Basement.' He nodded to a bland looking door with attached keypad. 'I'll let you through.'

After that, he went back to greeting the sweaty and unhappy customers as they entered the building. He'd all but forgotten the work down below when he felt the fluttering of the vents. It was almost a relief when the A/C came back on.

Although….The air had a very funny smell to it. Very strange smell…He felt woozy and weak, he wasn't the only one having difficulty since the vents activated. People began to drop like flies all around him.

What had that maintenance worker done?!

He saw her, coming back up from the basement, wearing a gas mask. She was flanked by two of the biggest and burliest men Eddie had ever seen.

She stood, metres from him and watched as the drug in his system finally took it's full effect and he stumbled back into a wall, his legs bucked and his arthritic knees hit polished marble. Finally, he passed out.

* * *

'Well…That took longer to work than I'd thought.' Switch muttered and pressed a remote control. The A/C shut off and she waited until the gas had dissipated before she pulled the mask from her face.

'Mannie, watch the shop floor. Lock up; get every body out of sight. Don't want snoopers. Zowie, grab the kit. Let's crack the vault.'

The main vault wasn't too hard to find. 'We're clear for phase one.' She spoke aloud.

'Good. You have twenty minutes.' A tinny little voice answered into her ear.

'You need to have a word with Scarecrow. That gas took way too long to affect some people.' Switch muttered as she planted a small device to the door. It stuck to the metal with a clang and began to disrupt the electronics inside the thick metalwork.

'It did the job, didn't it?' He replied.

Of course he only ever defended Crane. If it were anyone else- The mob, a contractor, an amateur, he'd have hunted them down and taken his money back with interest but because it was Jon, he let it slide. It had been a rush job after all.

The device flashed with a small green question mark. Switch could hear the locks beginning to disengage and the** ?** was replaced with a smug little **!** as the vault swung open.

'Like a fucking pro. Get shovelling, Zowie.' Switch grinned.

While the man-mountain began to shovel cash into bags, Switch approached the far wall, which included the lock-boxes. She palmed another device but then thought better of it. Sometimes, it was nice to do things the old fashioned way. She pulled a velvet bag from her inner pocket and unrolled it carefully.

Now, this should be a challenge. These were meant to be the most stubborn locks in Gotham.

Her picks slid into the lock effortlessly and she started off by testing the tumblers. Everything looked good.

A few minutes later, she revised that. This was fucking horrible. She really hated these locks, hated them. The third snapped pick was thrown down in frustration.

She clicked her fingers, which made Zowie look up. 'Hand me the bloody blowtorch.'

'Having trouble?' Nigma purred into her ear. She should have known he'd take the time to gloat at her failure and impatience.

'We don't have the time to play with high security locks.' She bristled.

'Then why did you even try?' His voice took a sudden edge and Switch cursed herself. She'd walked into that one.

'I'm a little busy, boss.' She hissed as Zowie slapped the canister into her hands.

She cranked up the gas and held a lit lighter to it. The flame sprang up easily.

'Answer me, Switch. You have lock-picks and my own little ciphers. Why would you need a blow torch?'

'Because. It's pissed me off.'

'You do realise you're speaking about metal, don't you?' He sounded amused, he always was when Switch lost her temper with something and took to overkill in revenge.

'I'll take this microphone out and do the rest of this on my own.' She threatened as the metal turned a gentle cherry red and weakened under the intense heat.

'No. You won't.' His tone hardened. 'You will keep communications. Do not jeopardise this.'

'Why are we even robbing this place? The cash? Or is this a vendetta?'

'Hardly.' He snorted. 'I'm taking payment owed. The Falcone's were never good at parting with an _agreed_ sum.'

'They obviously don't know you then.' She muttered as the lock all but melted under the intense heat. Switch pulled her hidden blade and jimmied the box open. The smaller box kept inside skidded the length of the floor and tapped Zowie's boot as Switch took to the next one.

'Time check.' She grunted.

'You've got ten minutes left.'

'Never going to get all these boxes open like this.' She sighed.

The sound of keystrokes came through the microphone, Nigma was searching. He always did hit the keys a little too hard. 'Hmmm. Boxes one oh six, six seven nine and five eight two have the most insurance on them.'

Switch didn't even need to ask. She switched targets.

The first box contained chunky gem jewellery. The kind that looks hideous and old and is probably worth more than one person would see in a year. The second contained gold, not uncommon, the third was deeds and titles that dated quite far back.

She was just loading them carefully into the bags when Mannie appeared at the door. 'Someone's here They're trying to get in. We've got to go!'

_Shite. _

They still needed to clean up. This was not in the schedule. 'We've got a kink. Gonna have to scrub earlier than planned.'

'Did you get the money?'

Of course, that was all he cared about. 'Yes.' She replied smoothly. 'And all three high insurance boxes.'

'Scrub it.'

She didn't need to be told twice. She pulled a packet of antiseptic wipes from her pocket and swiped down everything she might have come into contact with though doubtless she'd missed a number of possible points of transfer with her rush. Tools were tossed into the bag and a tablet was pulled out. It was hardly difficult to find an open port and implant malware to allow Nigma's computers access to the system.

'Scrub complete.' Switch muttered into her microphone.

'Get out of there.'

Switch grabbed a bag and scuttled out the vault door. Seconds later it slid shut and she hightailed it for the van, confident that Mannie and Zowie would be right behind her.

Just as she turned over the engine of the truck, she heard the first shout as whoever had interrupted them found the room full of unconscious employees.

She gave a laugh as the truck turned out of the parking lot and merged with traffic.

'Have we been scrubbed from security?' She asked as they swung around the front of the bank.

She heard the unmistakable sounds of keystrokes. 'You are now.' Nigma gloated.

'Looks like I'm paying for takeout tonight, lads.' Switch turned in her seat to look into the back of the truck at the two henchmen counting money. It was met with some approval. The bag of cash sat squarely on top of the recent corpse of Mr G. Tyler.

'Takeout?' The smooth voice enquired. It wasn't difficult to discern the interest or hunger in his voice.

'Pizza?' Switch answered and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Ten to one odds suggested he was watching her while she drove the damn car. Nigma had webcams and vantage points _everywhere_.

'Bring back a twelve inch meatlovers.'

She allowed a smirk to twitch up her face. 'Sure boss.'

'Stop calling me that.' He reprimanded her and disconnected. Switch pulled the microphone from her ear and threw it the length of the small cabin.

'Looks like it's pizza!' She cheered.

Behind her, Mannie and Zowie started a fight with the money. Dollars of pilfered money floated down onto her like snow.


End file.
